Monday, October 23, 2006

Captain Caveman gives us this week's Gamebook, from his experiences yesterday at 200 Fifth in Brooklyn's Park Slope neighborhood. He arrived near the end of the 1:00 games in order to minimize Sunday drunkenness, and left seconds after Seneca Wallace's fumble for a Vikings TD sealed a Seahawks loss.

- 200 Fifth is where I catch most Seahawks games that aren't nationally televised. By regular standards, it's a terrible place to watch football: always overcrowded, and the number of Steelers and Jets fans is IQ-lowering. But it's the only real sports bar in a neighborhood best known for lesbians and hipster/yuppie couples with pretentiously named children, so I guess I should move to a neighborhood that sucks less instead of bitching about my only option.

- Brian Westbrook scores on a ridiculous 52-yard catch-and-run that Berman is going to use to get his WHOOP! on, and the Eagles fans go batshit. They do the E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES! cheer that's similar to the Jets' famous cheer, but only one-third as annoying.

- Bruce Gradkowski has 27 seconds and one timeout to lead the Bucs to a field goal. The game is over, right? Matt Bryant, obviously motivated by the newfound possibility of a kicker becoming Meast of the Week, kicks the second-longest field goal in NFL history for the win. While the Bucs fans taunt the Eagles fans (rather cruelly, I thought), the shot of Donovan McNabb on the sideline is classic: he's smiling in a 4th-and-26, "You're a worthy adversary" kind of way.

- Legions of jersey-clad Yinzers own the back of the bar, but I'm standing next to a Falcons fan. Thank God. The emotional back-and-forth at the end of regulation: Michael Koenen makes a 56-yarder (we rejoice!), the realization that a timeout was called (cheering, furniture overturned in the back), Koenen misses the 56-yarder (whooping, sounds of fire being discovered), a penalty flag (high-five!), and Morten Andersen's missed 52-yarder (more pandemonium). Usually when I get jerked around like this, a woman is involved.

- I point at a TV in the corner. "Wow," I say, "KC's about to kick a game-winner against San Diego." Exactly no one looks at the TV.

- After Morten Andersen kicks the game-winner in OT, the entire bar turns on the Steelers fans. To the dulcet tones of "Nah-nah-nah-nah, hey hey hey, goodbye," the Yinzers respond with a raucous "Here we go Steelers, here we go!" chant. Uh... They know the game's over, right? Are they cheering their team into the showers? Onto the plane home? I suppose a "Five-time champions!" chant would have been a little too creative.

- My Falcons buddy stands on the rungs of his bar stool to cheer when the game-winner went through, which prompts the Redskins fan behind us to say, "Hey, sit down!" Terrible sports bar etiquette on the DC homer. Any game-changing or game-winning play mandates view-blocking celebrations. Fucking Man Law.

- With only three afternoon games televised, the crowd thins out a little. I'm one of seven or eight Seahawks fans in the bar; the Vikings have two or three representatives. Aggregate total of Seahawks-related clothing items we're wearing: zero. Perhaps this is why Seahawks fans have a reputation for not existing outside the Northwest: we don't wear team merchandise publicly. I've always thought that I just don't like the idea of being a grown man wearing another man's jersey, but since I'm cheering for the 'Hawks, I'm willing to admit there may be some shame involved, as well.

- Matt Hasselbeck gets Kimo'd. Seneca Wallace warms up. I've seen a lot of Seahawks fans defend Seneca over the last couple years, but I'm not fooled. Watching Seneca Wallace warm up is like watching Tommy Maddox warm up. It's tied 10-10 in the third quarter at Qwest Field, where the Seahawks haven't lost in 22 months. Nevertheless, this game is over.

Get well soon, Hass

- Things start to unravel. My vision gets all blurry and red during Chester Taylor's 95-yarder, but Seneca bounces back from an INT to lead Seattle to a rousing FG drive. 24-13, Vikings. The long-haired hippie next to me shares my pain. "I wanted that touchdown," he says after Darrell Jackson drops a would-be touchdown on third-and-goal. "I bet the over."

- I come back to the bathroom to find a guy in a Vikings hat eyeing my bar stool and the one next to it for his girlfriend. "'Scuse me," I say as I slide past him and reclaim my seat, and -- WHAT THE FUCK? There's a book by Noam Chomsky on the bar. Fabulist conspiracy theorist and known cocksucker Noam Chomsky. AT A SPORTS BAR. Me: "Take your Chomsky and get outta here, you goddam communist!" Christ.

- Seneca Wallace gets sacked at the two and fumbles. Touchdown, Vikings. I put my jacket on. Hippie: "Well, I got the over." Me: "I don't care about your fucking over. I care about the Seahawks." Eat shit and die.

I got backed into a weird corner and sort of had to go with Seattle in my suicide pool this week. I'm hoping this means I can hook up with Big Daddy Drew down at the Suicide Losers' Lounge on Sundays from now on.

I can't watch the Chiefs anymore. I witnessed the fumble that let the Chargers tie the game, the pass from LT, and Antonio's touchdown. I missed the game winning field goal and basically the part of the game where KC was scoring touchdowns and not field goals.

Don't worry becky...the hippies are outside with their babies in strollers made of all natural materials, shopping at the Park Slope Co-op. They wouldn't dare step foot in 200 Fifth for fear their baby would grow up with a thirst for bad domestic beer and man blood.